The Promise of Skin
by Wedjatqi
Summary: Seeing Teyla in her unadulterated feminine grace and beauty, John could do nothing but simply watch and barely breathe. JT


**Warnings**: Bit fluffy!! Not much of a story. You have been warned!

**Spoilers**: I guess anything up to season 3.

**Disclaimers**: I own no part of the Stargate world, I make no money from this endeavour. I only love this world so much I wish to play in it.

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The breeze was picking up across the trees as John stood at the very edge of the Athosian camp. The air danced around him, playfully moving his hair across his forehead and calling for him to join in the play. He looked up at the heavens above him, the sky was thick with the on coming storm front. He could feel the lure of the electricity in the air, feel the storm approaching. The clouds were fast approaching, the colours a mixture of white and thick dark blue full of impending rainfall. In the distance came the distant rumble of thunder. He estimated the storm would reach the camp within half an hour.

Behind him he heard the Athosians continuing their preparations for the storm. They had faired much worse than this advancing storm. They just needed to make sure everything was tied down securely and the storm should pass without incident.

Looking back up at the heavy sky he closed his eyes and drew in a full breath. He breathed in the clear, charged air and allowed himself to enjoy the energy he felt all around him. He had always enjoyed storms, but that had been before the massive one that had almost destroyed Atlantis. Now however, he allowed himself to remember why he loved the wild weather. He felt re-charged somehow. Alive and wild, yet still and calm within.

Thunder rumbled much closer over head and he felt the new shift of dampness in the air. The rain would fall soon, and he should get back to the tent. Turning from the approaching front he moved through the Athosian tents. He knew most of them by sight now, having shared various trips to and from the city over the past few years. Most smiled and nodded, but they tended to just accept him as if he were one of them now. A feeling that he could admit he enjoyed.

He had accompanied Teyla on her latest trip here to help out with the harvesting. He had spent the last two days working the fields alongside Teyla and her people, sitting with them for meals and drinking with them at night. His body ached slightly from the intensive work, but his soul was restful and at peace. He felt renewed from this visit, especially now with the storm rumbling overhead.

He reached Teyla's tent just as the first raindrops began to fall. He stood just inside the tent flap and watched the strange colour to the air as the water fell. In the distance he saw a flash of bright lightening slice across the sky. He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable thunder that would follow. Under his breath he counted. Then after a count of four the heavens crashed and rolled with sound, just beyond the camp.

A cool breeze finally pushed him inside. Inside the tent the air was warm and inviting. The tent was roughly circular, with a cooking area to his left, blackened pots and skins of water hung from a stand. To his right stood a table and benches set on a thick bright rug. He moved to the back left, where his sleeping mat was set up behind a small screen for his privacy. He removed his jacket and boots and set them beside his backpack.

Teyla's bed was set across to the right side of the tent, which like his was set behind a screen separating these sleeping areas from the public and cooking areas. Above him he heard the rain bounce across the high tent roof. Then from across the tent he heard a heavier amount of water fall. Concerned that there was a break in the tent wall he moved towards Teyla's sleeping area to investigate. He wasn't sure where she was, but he didn't want her to come back to a soaked home.

Her bed stood away from the wall allowing a sitting area beyond it. He hadn't nosed around that area, as it was her own personal intimate space. Yet, he had seen the bright warm tones of the blankets that spread across her bed and had seen her more traditional Athosian clothes hanging in a cabinet beyond that. The thick spicy smell of her candles grew stronger as he approached. Outside the wind moved against the tent walls and he felt the electricity in his veins once more.

The sound of cascading water came again, definitely from the area beyond her bed. He reached the foot of her bed, looked into the small area beyond and stopped. Teyla was knelt on the floor her back to him, two large bowls of water before her and a thick cloth in her hand. A thick red robe had fallen around her waist, leaving the whole of her naked back exposed. He stood rooted to the spot and watched as she leant forward slightly, dipping the cloth into the water. As she moved he glimpsed the slight swell of breast as her arms moved away from her sides as she lightly wrung out the cloth. She then lifted the saturated cloth to her shoulder and he watched as the water cascaded down the tawny skin of her back. He watched the droplets travel down her shoulder, dance around the ridges and dips of her spine, past the level of her narrow waist and slid down to where the robe was gathered around the swell of her hips.

She leant forward again and repeated the same action over her other shoulder. He watched in silence. Her hair was pinned up high on her head, revealing the long line of her naked neck. She moved gracefully and in a manor that betrayed her relaxed mood. She lifted the cloth to her neck and slid it down and across her shoulder. He watched, captivated by the sight of her. Seeing her in her unadulterated feminine grace and beauty he could do nothing but simply watch and barely breathe.

She became aware of his presence somehow. She must have heard him when he had entered the tent before yet she had not covered up. Perhaps that she hadn't heard any other movement from him about the tent, had tipped off his presence so close. He felt suddenly worried that he was invading her privacy and acting like some pervert voyeur.

Aware of him now less than a two metres away, he saw her glance slightly over her right shoulder, but she did not turn to look back at him. Her profile was lit by the candles that burned beyond her. Her beauty called to him so profoundly. She turned her gaze back to the bowl before her and dipped the cloth back into the water. She made no move to cover herself or to ask him to leave. Instead, she lifted the cloth to her shoulder again and squeezed the clear water over her back. What did that mean?

Racked with sudden indecision and confusion, he wondered what he should do. He could leave now, leave her to her washing in peace, or he could…what? He looked away from the goddess before him and looked back to the empty tent beyond. The sound of movement drew his attention back to her. She had drawn forward the other bowl and another cloth in which was wrapped a large soap bar. She swept the soaped cloth down her neck on both sides and then she arched her back as she reached as far back as she could to cover her whole back. It was slightly awkward for her, yet she was managing.

Without thinking he found himself stepping forward towards her. She stopped momentarily as he approached her. He didn't stop to question his actions as he reached her, took the soap cloth from her hand and knelt down behind her. He ran the cloth down the centre of her back, tracing her spine down till it disappeared beneath the robe. He gently rubbed the soap into her skin in easy circles, expecting at any moment for her to tell him to stop. The soap smelt of some earthy essential oil that he had smelt on her before. Mixed in the soap were what looked like rose petals and he wondered if the smell came from the flower.

Happy that her whole back was soaped, he returned the cloth to its bowl beside her. He paused for a moment, unsure if he should continue, if he was ready to express to her his true thoughts and feelings to her. He could get up and leave, having just helped her reach the awkward areas of her back.

Outside the thunder rumbled on the outskirts of the camp, the storm almost upon them.

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Teyla's breath felt heavy as it passed her lips. The air was heavy with the thick scent of the candles and soap, and warm from the fire that had burnt all day across the tent.

Behind her she heard him still, and she waited for him to decide what to do. She had been happily shocked to have realised he had been watching her bathe. The feeling of his eyes upon her had surprised her in its intensity. She had known he would be returning to the tent, had she wanted him to find her? Among her people it was not unusual to wash whilst others were in the tent beyond the screens. Yet, he was not of her people. Had she wanted to test his intentions? Confused at her own motivation she felt oddly exposed.

He moved then, shifting so he could reach the bowl of clean water and she released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. He squeezed the cloth out, lifted it to her neck and slid the cloth down the right side of her neck, then the left, his actions gentle and slow. All worries and concerns fled her mind as she focused all her attention on the cloth grazing over her skin. He continued his administrations all down her back. She smiled lightly at his obvious concentration and thoroughness. With one last stroke across her waist all the soap was gone. He paused then as he slowly returned the cloth to the bowl.

She reached out, picked up a towel and passed it to him. He took it from her and stroked it around her back, gently and meticulously removing any of the water from her skin. She sighed lightly in comfort at the care he took over her. Unsure if her skin was completely dry he brushed his fingers lightly across her shoulders. The contrast of cool towel and water to his warm living fingers was abrupt. He drew his hand away, worried he had crossed a line perhaps. He placed the towel down and paused once again.

She smiled over her shoulder as she lifted her right arm out, and thought she could honestly hear him smile from behind her. He reached for the water cloth once more, lifted it to the top of her shoulder, and squeezed the water down her arm. He shifted, settling himself into a comfortable kneeling position behind and to the side of her, probably hoping to preserve her privacy by not seeing her naked front. The silence stretched out between them. Teyla watched him drop the cloth in one bowl and then reach for the soap. She dared not turn to look at him directly, fearing to break the magical new spell between them.

He slid the soaped cloth down her arm. She could feel the warmth of his palm through the cloth as he encircled the material completely around her arm. The cloth reached her wrist and she watched as he cupped her smaller hand in his larger stronger palm. He cupped her wrist momentarily in the palm of his hand before sliding the cloth down across her hand. He turned her arm slightly and ran the soap cloth back up along her under arm. The skin there seemed more sensitive and it tingled against the warmth of his touch. He then turned to the clear water, and proceeded to rinse away the soap and then wrapped the towel along her arm to absorb the remaining water.

He shifted away from her then, moving towards her other side and began working on her other arm. He worked in silence, with obvious intense concentration. His touch was gentle, so very gentle. He washed her skin as though it were as delicate and precious as a flower. Her breath quivered on her lips. The heavy warm air around her now smelt of him. She closed her eyes and focused on his touch, drew in his masculine scent. All of her skin seemed sensitised to his presence behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body across the inches of space between them.

She felt wild and abandoned, kneeling here her top half exposed to the cooling air and his gaze. The small amount of vulnerability she felt was balanced with the comfort of his touch and the pain of the sudden potential between them.

His touch stopped, pulling her away from her internal wanderings. He lifted the towel away from her clean arm and placed it down beside her. All there was left to wash now was her front. Time seemed to expand to her. She felt like she was at a momentous moment in her life.

Outside the wind swept up the sides of the tent, howling around them. The candles flickered slightly and Teyla waited. She didn't dare turn to look at him or to speak to him fearing she may break the moment between them. She bent her head down slightly and tilted her head in his direction over her shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact yet.

The potential between them had never felt so intense to her. The atmosphere was stretched to breaking point. But, what would break; the moment, their friendship, or the unspoken avoidance of intimacy? She waited for him to make a decision. Stay, go, it was up to him.

In truth she didn't know what she wanted him to do.

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The tiny distance between his body and hers seemed to sparkle with tension and potential. John dared not move from where he knelt behind her left shoulder. Her skin, so golden in the candle light begged to be touched, to be kissed. Never had he felt his desire for her so strongly, so openly.

She tilted her head slightly towards him. He understood the question, but he didn't dare answer yet. She was his friend, his colleague. Should they even be here? He cared for this woman, perhaps much more than cared.

Some part of him sensed the power she had over him and he feared that. He feared he could lose his heart to her and he wasn't sure if he was a brave enough man to venture into that battlefield. Could he surrender to what his heart and body wanted? And he did want…he had not realised how much until now.

It was all too much to process. He leant towards her, allowing himself to be drawn in by the warmth of her body and the glow of candlelight across her shoulder. He let out a heavy breath of confusion and saw goose-bumps prickle up over her skin. Too confused to make a decision he simply rested his forehead against her temple which was turned towards him.

She shifted slightly so more of her forehead rested against his, in a strange approximation of the Athosian ritual. And like that they stayed. John closed his eyes and rested his mind. He took in the emotions swelling up within him, the gentle smell of flower soap, candles and the unique scent of Teyla. Affection burst through him. He loved this woman. She was strong, intelligent, and beautiful and she seemed to understand him. She was a kindred spirit form across the stars. For a fleeting moment he almost remembered her from before they ever met.

She sighed in what he thought and hoped was in comfort. Her breath danced over his cheek and he smiled. He lifted a hand and stroked it gently down her back. He felt the goose-bumps present there as well. She was getting cold. Decision formed without thought and he moved, sliding his temple away from hers as he pressed his body against her back, still kneeling behind her. He spread his knees so that he could encircle her between his thighs, her back against his chest.

He reached for the clean water cloth, squeezed out the excess water and brought the cloth up to her waist. He flattened the cloth over her skin and slid it forward around her belly.

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Teyla bit her lower lip against the heavy groan at feeling John pressed up against her back, his hand sliding the cloth over her. Her skin felt sensitized beyond belief at the rough threads of the soft cloth. He turned back to the bowl of water, dipped the cloth back into the clear liquid, then drew it up and dripping to her shoulder. She felt him move slightly closer to watch as he squeezed the water down over her right collarbone. The water cascaded down over her upper ribs, over her right breast and some channelling down her cleavage over her belly, down to the cloth of the gown around her hips. He repeated the process, his breath a gentle stirring over her right shoulder.

She closed her eyes and worked to control her emotions. She had never been so aware of the feel of water over her flesh. He moved the cloth over her left shoulder and again squeezed a torrent of light water over her. She could feel the tightness of her breasts, the heavy weight of arousal gaining speed within her. He wasn't even touching her directly. He moved from her slightly and she opened her eyes. All she could see of him were his hands and wrists, which were presently rubbing the soap bar into the cloth. Happy he had enough suds his hand lifted to her shoulder. The cloth slid over her collarbone, up her neck, over to the other collar bone and then swept gently down over the top of one breast then the other. She could hear his breathing now over the rain pattering on the tent roof above them. His breath shook slightly against her neck and instinctively she tilted her head to the side exposing her neck to him further. His breath edged closer to her skin and she allowed her eyes to close once again.

They shouldn't be doing this she thought suddenly. They were colleagues, friends and warriors against a fearsome enemy. She should stop this before it got any further. However, the cloth slid between her breasts and down to her belly creating a flood of heat and emotion through her.

Why shouldn't she allow herself this time with him? Why couldn't she be like other women; free to love the man to whom she had given her heart? Now, she was just Teyla. She was not a leader. She was a woman, free to feel what she wanted. Free to enjoy this simple moment with him. To be with John.

As the cloth swept over her waist and ribs, she felt his lips touch her neck. He simply brushed his lips over her skin. The touch was so fleeting and honest that she could not suppress the gasp that passed over her own lips. She felt his lips touch her again, but this time she could feel the smile upon them. It broke the tension slightly and she smiled as well.

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John inhaled the soft scent of her skin once more before he moved away again. He had only intended to kiss her briefly, but the unadulterated sound of pleasure from her had called him to press his lips to her once more. Pleasure of his own made him smile, he felt suddenly so happy, that he could make Teyla utter such a sound. Male pride and arousal poured through him some more. And amazement that she would allow him to touch her like this. Affection battled against raw desire. Part of him wanted to hold back no longer. Too long had he denied his desire for Teyla. Too long had he pretended that he didn't want to bury himself in her. His thoughts brought forth his own groan of pleasure.

He sat back from her slightly, hoping to break the raw need in him. She was his friend and he wanted to cherish her. Every part of her. No longer willing to ignore this anymore he shifted from behind her and moved to sit beside her. The sight of her beautiful female form came into clear view for him for the first time. His breath caught briefly in his throat, he turned to pick up the clean water cloth and worked to regain some composure. He took longer in squeezing out the cloth than was necessary.

Turning back to her he found her watching him. His throat constricted again, but this time at the open expression he saw in her eyes. She blinked and looked down. She was as unsure about this as he was. The knowledge brought relief, but also the sudden clarity that he did want this. He lifted the cloth to her neck and gently swept the soap from her skin.

Time slowed for John. He took his time, and enjoyed every dip and swell of her body as he washed her. He lingered in his touch, the pretence of bathing her, allowed him to take his time. Teyla kept her gaze distant, but John saw her watching him out of the corner of her eye. Saw the parting of her lips and felt her heavy delicate breath over the skin of his bare forearm as he wiped the towel down over her.

He placed the towel aside, the job complete. But, he needed one more thing; he wanted to touch her without the barrier of cloth or towel between their skins. So, gathering his courage he lifted his fingers and traced the line of her shoulder with his bare fingertips. Her eyes moved to his finally and he saw a clear echo of his own thoughts and feelings mirrored within the dark depths.

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Teyla looked into his darkened dilated eyes and it almost broke her. For the first time she saw the passion and affection clearly. She hoped he could see the same in her. His eyes dropped briefly to his fingers that moved slightly hesitantly to stroke the top of a breast. She sighed at the touch and his eyes leapt up to meet hers again, judging her response, her acceptance maybe. A light smile touched his lips as he returned his attention down to her breasts.

Unable to keep from returning his physical touch any further Teyla reached up and trailed the backs of her fingers down his handsome cheek. He leant his face into her touch, his eyes drifting shut for a moment. As she felt his hand slide down her naked side, she pressed her palm against his cheek, into which he turned his mouth and she felt him place a gentle kiss against her skin. Drawn by the promise of his kiss she traced his mouth with her fingertips. John smiled against the pads of her fingers and she smiled at him as their eyes met once again.

The hand against her side moved round to her back and he pulled her gently towards him. Heat and desire flared up hotly within her as she turned her body towards his and leant towards him. He slid his lips straight past hers, and nuzzled his nose and lips against her cheek and neck. Teyla laughed lightly with delight, and her hands found their way up into his hair. In return she nuzzled into his slightly stubbled smiling cheek and breathed in his deep musky masculine smell. Never had she been able to touch him so openly and it was all so joyful for her. She had not expected to feel this. As usual John had an unpredictable and joyous effect on her.

His hands swept up her naked back, caressing her skin leaving a path of restlessness behind. Seeming to sense the new level of need in her, he pressed his lips against her neck, his tongue a brief touch within the kiss. He trailed his nose and lips up her throat to finally reach her lips. She slid her fingers up through his spiky hair and pulled his mouth against hers.

The kiss was soft, but passionate. Teyla allowed herself to lose herself in the kiss. When he slanted his mouth over hers and licked against her lower lip she eagerly opened her mouth for him. Mouths joined in a sudden surge of emotion and need. As if a dam that had been holding back years worth of desire and want had suddenly burst, they gave themselves to the wildness of the passion that was over whelming them.

Hands, fingers, tongues and lips slid over skin, until all that lay between them was the skin they had been born in. John drew her up against his now bare chest, as she settled astride his lap. She wrapped her arms fully around him and slid down onto him. He groaned deeply into the hollow of her throat and she chuckled in his ear, before biting down gently.

"Teyla." He moaned with a hint of amusement in his voice. He lifted his face up from her throat to meet her eyes. They gazed at each other for a few moments. John stroked the backs of his fingers down one cheek, down her neck and back up again. The pure desire and love in his gaze and touch brought tears to Teyla's eyes. She returned the gesture, brushing his hair away from his forehead then leaning forward and pressing her lips to his skin, brushing against his eyes, his cheek, down to meet his lips. He kissed her with a sigh of pleasure, his fingers caressing her back, hips and sides in wide lingering strokes.

Teyla had never known a first time with a man to be so leisurely, yet they both lingered over each other. Touching every part of the other, loving every moment with intensity until it finally became too much. Then as the storm battered its final moments against the tent walls around them, John laid her beneath him and together they raced towards ecstasy. Gasping and whispering words of love and encouragement they finally found their fulfilment and collapsed down on the thick Athosian rugs, candlelight dancing over their over heated skin.

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Teyla lay on the warm rug, panting through the receding pleasure that had coursed through her veins. Beside her she heard John as equally breathless.

"My God." He muttered.

Amusement and pleasure made her laugh gently and he joined her. Their legs still entangled they lay staring up at the tent ceiling and worked to regain control. The storm was fast fading into the distance, leaving the land renewed and silent beneath it.

Teyla looked over at John beside her, to find him already studying her in return. Both smiled with affection and a little shyness. Rolling onto her side towards him, Teyla lifted a hand to his chest. John reached over and slid his palm down her side and onto her upturned hip. His touch was assured and willing, and she sensed no doubt or regret in it. He rolled onto his side opposite her as he continued his caress along her side.

"We should have done this a long time ago." He muttered quietly. Looking into her dark eyes he saw nothing but acceptance and comfort. "We're okay?" He asked hesitantly.

She stroked over his lightly haired and warm chest. Then pressed a kiss to his skin and then up to meet his lips.

"Yes, John." She whispered against his lips. "But…" He stilled at the slight tension in her voice. "Perhaps, we should move to the bed."

"That we can do." He smiled as he sat up.

Together they helped each other up from the floor, climbed into Teyla's warm bed and snuggled down together in the centre. As John began drifting off to sleep, Teyla pressed up against his side, her breath gentle across his throat, he knew he would forever love storms.

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THE END.


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